


i thought i could fly (so why did i drown?)

by shybear_styles



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Hurt No Comfort, Mentions of Death, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:40:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29299053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shybear_styles/pseuds/shybear_styles
Summary: Charles feels like he's drowning.
Kudos: 26





	i thought i could fly (so why did i drown?)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I felt like I was suffocating and it's extremely indulgent and sad, please don't read if it could trigger you.
> 
> This is literally just 600 words of me being miserable and hating life and I'll probably delete it in a couple of days, but I know a lot of people struggle with loss and grief and I hope this can be in any way cathartic to them.

Charles feels like he’s drowning.

He’s been stumbling through life since he was 16, sitting at home with his family and watching as his godfather’s fate was sealed with one bad decision in a rainy race. Sitting in a hospital room at 17 and listening to the doctors say that there was nothing they could do but wait until the man who inspired him the most, who made him want to race and supported him since he could barely drive a kart, couldn’t hang on to whatever shred of life was left inside of him anymore.

18 years old, sitting on the living room couch between Lorenzo and Arthur as his father, hands intertwined with his mother’s so tight their skin turned white, told them that he was sick. Watching as he got weaker and weaker as the months went by, until the only thing that Charles saw when he looked at him was pain and sorrow and grief. 

Sitting next to his father’s bed weeks before the end and telling him that he had been signed for Ferrari, choking down the tears and the guilt for lying to him but wanting and  _ needing  _ to give him that, to pretend like his life would go on and he would be okay after him.

Standing at the highest step of the podium at 19 and lifting the first place trophy, pointing at the sky and hoping with everything he had that his father was looking at him, that Jules was with him and that they were proud.

Getting the call that he got the Ferrari seat at 20 and crying until he couldn’t breathe because Jules deserved that seat, he deserved that chance and it was stolen from him and it wasn’t  _ fair, _ but at least some of the guilt would leave him, because he lied to his dad but it came true, he got the seat and he wouldn’t be dragged down by the guilt anymore.

Barely a year later, holding on to Pierre in a hotel room as they got the call that Anthoine was dead. Another person taken from him, another life lost to the only thing that’s brought Charles anything resembling happiness in years.

He’s heard so much about how he’s so strong, how people are amazed by his resilience and focus when he’s been through so much and he wants to scream at them, tell them that he’s not strong, that he’s been a shell of a person for years and he doesn’t want to do this anymore, he doesn’t want to keep hurting but that’s the only life he’s known since he was a teenager and he can’t give up, no matter how much pain he feels, because he’s not doing this for himself; he’s doing it for the people he’s lost, for the people who dreamed about racing and winning and seeing him succeed and he couldn’t do anything to help any of them, could only watch helplessly as they faded away and left, but  _ this?  _ This he can do.

He can be the most ruthless driver out there, not caring about rules and safety and the people who are racing with him, because he’ll do anything to win, even if it means risking his own life and making people hate him for being stupid and reckless.

So he pretends. He smiles at interviews, at his team and his family and his friends and apologizes, promises to be more careful and feels the words burn his throat like they’re fire and water and pain and grief, choking him and making it harder to stay afloat everyday.


End file.
